


"Do you like fireworks?"

by mimzy630



Category: AI: The Somnium Files (Video Game)
Genre: Fuck So Sejima honestly, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It's dark but I tried to handle it well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:07:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimzy630/pseuds/mimzy630
Summary: How Saito Sejima came to like fireworks.
Relationships: Sejima Saito&Sejima So
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	"Do you like fireworks?"

“Do you like fireworks?”

The voice was old, yet with none of the kindness that tends to come with age. It was instead loud and assertive, though if one avoided being swept away by the confidence and listened to the words it spoke, they would notice a lack of genuine substance. The voice was always calculating, sold to the highest bidder to maximize stability and profits. That was just the kind of person the voice belonged to: a ruthless, heartless politician named Congressman So Sejima.

However, something about this innocent phrase struck him as odd- the Congressman tried to never ask questions, instead focusing on brainwashing the public with his own answers. But, just this once, the man behind the voice was wondering rather than indoctrinating. Wondering about who? There was only one other person in the room: his son, Saito Sejima.

“I-I’ve never seen fireworks, sir.”

The wrinkled, permanently frowning face considered that for a moment then offered a hand to the uptight 12-year-old. The child in blue sweatshirt took it, confused; his father rarely acknowledged him, let alone touched him. Of course, his motivations were soon laid out,

“I was going to see some with a potential business partner, but they canceled on me. I still have tickets for a good seat if you would like to come.”

The child had picked up many of his fathers’ tendencies over the years, and genuine connection was not one of them. In the back of his mind, a seed of doubt grew: it was likely the request was more for the Congressman to show the world he was a family man, not his child. Still, the young man had never been asked before. The general life of a child is to be taught, but even more so for a Sejima; the traditional Japanese family was meant to act like one, so perfect posture, cantor, and eloquence were always required. His own father had asked his son to address him formally.

“I would love to, sir. If you would not mind taking me.”

The old man gave off a grunt and led his son towards his car, the young man holding his father’s hand skittishly as if he could not believe it existed. The engine turned on like any normal car, and the pair began driving off into the distance in complete silence.

The young boy resisted the urge to shake his legs nervously, struggling- yet succeeding- to sit perfectly still as was expected. He watched the scenery from outside the dashboard fly by from his isolated seat, an observer to the destination chosen for him- a passenger in the life bought for him. He stole a look at his father, but his expression was the same cold emptiness; though it displayed a false smile rather than a frown. Unsure of what to do, he glanced at his hands, a tinge of fear traveling up his spine as he noticed a small bloodstain. He wiped it under his shirt quickly, afraid of his father finding his one act of defiance: the animals he had killed.

The young Sejima endeavored to be the perfect child, but his mind would not let him; though he fell into line easily, he could never expect a reward. The only thing he could count on were the carefully placed cigarette burns dotting his body; whenever he displeased his father, he would seek one out to redeem himself. The father, of course, thought his child was merely picking up after him. It was through this ritual that he knew the only contact with his father, though it may have been indirect. Through Klein cigarettes, he knew human connections.

However, this connection was new- it was still distant, but when his father had taken his hand it had been a different sort of burn: warm, not hot. A full body on tepid coals rather than a piece tossed into the inferno. The son had never known this feeling, but was fascinated; he felt so little, only knowing pieces of pleasure when he spread the joy of twisted redemption to the creatures who trespassed on the Sejima Estate. He saw himself as a merciful hunter, bringing animals their last moments of joy before paying the Sejima price of defiance.

The car stopped abruptly and his father had already begun to leave. The boy stepped out gracefully, following his father as he laid a blanket on a patch of soft grass. He had been told what to expect; loud noises and flashes, at which he was not meant to flinch, but enjoy. He waited in anticipation, catlike eyes towards the black sky- then it began.

The child heard a loud screech as something flew in the air, leaving a trail of smoke behind it. He watched as the trail disappeared, then-

_ BANG _

It was loud, louder than he could have anticipated, but the child did not cover his ears; he had endured worse for appearances. The people around took notice in the flash, murmuring about being near a famous politician, about how he was such a good father for personally taking his son to see a show when he was surely bus-

_ BANG _

During the show, the child’s thoughts did not matter; he could not worry about anything while the whine of the upward momentum and boom of the explosions commanded his attention. His father stared wordlessly at the sky, grey eyes reflecting but seeing litt-

_ BANG _

The child’s grey hair shone with color for the first time, briefly reflecting his eyes. His father had never approved of his eyes, but grey contacts only irritated them- the old man had wanted his child to be as lifeless as-

_ BANG _

A gasp from the crowd. The next firework was spinning out of control, barrelling sideways instead of forwards. It forged its own path in defiance of its chosen destiny. Saito watched with practiced unyielding, watching the small object get larger and larger. A part of him knew it was going to explode, but he was rooted in place, focused on simply taking in the moment.

“SAITO!”

The loud voice belonged to daddy- Saito blinked in confusion, but his vision was soon covered by a dark mass. Dad had used his name for the first time he could remember. A second later and Dad was embracing him.

_ BANG _

This sound hit him harder than the rest, shattering his eardrums and leaving only a droning ring. His eyes stung with dust and explosives, and though he tried not to cry, tears streamed out without his permission. Saito’s back had been hit, but the fire felt good- the warmth of So’s body surrounding him along with the sting was something new, something... Satisfying. Saito buried himself in the hug, but the moment did not last long. His dad peeled away and looked at him with the same cold expression,

“Are you alright, son?”

“I am fine, father.”

The child held his knees in stunned silence. The warmth left him quickly, leaving him colder than before. He shivered despite himself, stopping his tears but not his body from the pain of withdrawal from the attention he so desperately craved. He was completely alone once again, with only the faint feeling of pain on his back to remind him of the moment.

Congressman So Sejima would see the incident has the media did: Heroic Father and Politician Takes Explosion for Son. It printed in every newspaper and on every news station, the older Sejima making television appearances for his bravery. A small number of people said the accident was faked, but it was never allowed to be investigated- the Kumakuras took care of the disbelievers, never allowing it to reach the child’s ears. Never allowing that seed to take root.

-

“Do you like fireworks?”

The child turned adult stands atop a grey platform. He whispers the phrase to his captive- a young girl named Iris Sagan- as he points a gun at her head. Any moment now, the door in front of him will open, and it will be showtime. His arm shakes a bit in anticipation- finally, he’ll feel that warmth again. He’ll have done what the mafia could not, and protect So’s honor. His grin grew wider, more manic as he put more pressure on her temple, taped mouth unable to respond.

The door opened-

A blinding light shone from above-

The loud clang of the lights struggling to flicker to life from total disrepair-

He would not be the grey-eyed son. He would go out beautifully, land in the papers as a single firework gone astray. He would land in the papers for living his own life, and for ending the lives of others gloriously.

After all, after that searing intensity, the only thing left in their lives would be the cold.

Saito grabbed Iris’s hair to put it in place- he wanted his nemesis to see the fear in her eyes before she was gone.

Her head was warm.

Saito let go.


End file.
